


the equal and counter effects

by UniversalSatan



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Ballroom Dancing, Conversations, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrations, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, there are other background characters but snorkmaiden is mentioned the most
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22351054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversalSatan/pseuds/UniversalSatan
Summary: Snufkin is always there for his best friend, even if he's in love with said best friend and has to endure the never-ending chatter about best friend's girlfriend.Essentially, kind of a 5+1 that looks at the differences between Snufkin versus Snormaiden's relationships with Moomin.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 33
Kudos: 230





	the equal and counter effects

**Author's Note:**

> hey brenna... im ur secret santa... im s o sorry im so late bUT HERE IT IS!! ~~and as soon as u get an ao3 this baby is dedicated to u.~~ i know it's long but... i did write like half of this last year (the apple blossom scene was heavily inspired by the tree in my high school courtyard), and you wanted snufmin so i thought i'd kill two birds with one stone ;). also, i didn't get time to do lil illustrations for every scene, but i hope this one will suffice haha. also im p sure you were the one who gave me the idea for this fic in the very first place (about the iffy parts of snormaiden and moomin's relationship) so thank u for that.
> 
> also, there are a handful of songs mentioned thruout the fic, so i'll just link em all at the end for your curiosity.

  1. _Understanding_



  
  


Snufkin would describe himself as a patient person… if he was forced to describe himself with any words at all, that is. When someone is asked to verify their response to a similar question, oftentimes they’d scratch their heads and desperately struggle to call to mind a humble memory; in Snufkin’s case, those memories consisted of dealing with the nonsense both Little My and Sniff brought about, and, though he’d never admit it, the long, long winters that made him begin to miss Moomin… _Moominvalley_ , that is. 

You see, in his silence, Snufkin ended up being rather humble about his patience. He became good at bottling up any irritation he felt, which in turn made it easier to store away things such as anger and jealousy (which, of course, the latter was essential for one to repress around Moomin). That wasn’t to say Snufkin retained all emotion: he could still smile and laugh, he just didn’t like to cry.

Thus, it would be safe to say that Snufkin had grown a little bit _too_ good at being patient.

It was moments like these that Snufkin was patient: he would certainly _listen_ to Moomin ramble, without a doubt, but the topic of Snorkmaiden was becoming a strained one (at least from Snufkin’s point of view). Instead of snapping or even tuning out of the conversation, Snufkin would simply grind his teeth on the cellulose of some grass, willing the unpleasant moods to leak away from the soles of his boots. It helped that the sound of rushing water was enough to calm him, with the gentle tug of his fishing rod’s bait down the current grounding him to something.

“The Knight in Shining Armor always seems to work on her, but is there anything else I could play? It gets a bit boring doing the same thing over and over again,” Moomin rambled. His tail would swish from side to side every once in a while, rustling the grass behind them. The sound was crystal clear to Snufkin’s ears, considering both how close Moomin was sitting to him and how hyper-aware he was of his friend’s every action.

Snufkin did his best to put on a smile. “Mm.” He stared patiently at the water, praying to the-Proctor-of-all-Small-Beasts that a fish would appear to distract his attention.

“Is a Lost Prince too similar to that of a Knight in Shining Armor? What about a Loyal Servant?” It was almost pitying how conflicted Moomin sounded. His snout wrinkled with frustration. “No… why do those all have a royal theme? Are there any other themes that are romantic that you can think of, Snufkin?”

He resisted the urge to sigh. “You already know that I know nothing about this subject manner in the first place, Moomin.” 

“I know, I know, it’s just…” Moomin sighed forlornly, still seeming conflicted. “Well… what do you think _makes_ a theme romantic in the first place?”

“I suppose it has a lot to do with what you actually say to the other person.”

Moomin slapped a paw to the ground. “Oh, of course! You’re so right, as per usual! Her beauty is something that must _always_ be pointed out, and _\- oh! My fair lady…_ that’s a pretty good one, isn’t it? Next time we are out together —Snorkmaiden and I, I mean— I’ll get down on a knee and kiss her hand… what else? Say something like… say something like… hmm… _Good morrow, my fair lady, how do you do?_ No, wait… _how do you fare!_ ” Moomin suddenly turned to his friend, bringing all of his attention back to him. “What do you think, Snufkin?”

“I think there aren’t many fish biting today,” Snufkin drawled as he propped his fishing pole between rocks. _Huh, that was odd: he’d snapped_. Without sparing Moomin so much as a glance, Snufkin leaned all the way back to lie on the grass, pulling his hat over his eyes.

Though Snufkin couldn’t see his friend, he could still hear the pout in his voice. “ _Oh_ , all you care about is fishing, don’t you?” Moomin’s sigh was wistful. “It doesn’t matter, I’m just at a loss of what to do. What is there to say that I haven’t already?”

“I’m sure you could mix up the words a bit.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. There’s gotta be _something_ new.”

“Well it all sounds rather scripted to me.”

When Moomin ended up remaining silent for a beat too long, something sank in Snufkin’s belly and he was more than glad that his hat covered his face. He chewed nervously at his grass, hoping that his friend wasn’t too hurt by his words. Then again, it was probably time that Snufkin needed to be blunt about Moomin’s relationship with Snorkmaiden; the sole reason he avoided interfering with their relationship in the first place was for Moomin’s wellbeing. Jealousy and frustration were threatening to spill, overflowing at the brim of Snufkin’s subconscious, but he reminded himself to be understanding — he was a patient creature, after all.

“Snufkin?”

“Yes, Moomin?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything you’d like.”

Moomin paused again, and this time Snufkin lifted the brim of his hat from his eyes, propping himself up onto his elbows. His friend was staring down into the water, anxiously fiddling with the fishing rod in his paws. Somehow, just being able to see Moomin in front of him again did something miraculous to Snufkin, and he could gradually feel a lot of the irritation wash away, gently seeping into the ground below him. 

“What…” Moomin interrupted himself by giggling unsurely, still attempting to formulate his query properly. “What is one supposed to _do_ in a romantic relationship?”

All Snufkin could bring himself to do was blink at Moomin. _He couldn’t really be that dense, could he?_ “Why, _Moomin…_ you’re the one who’s been in a romantic relationship since the comet passed.”

“I know, I know,” he replied bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… well I don’t want to call it that but… for lack of a better word I feel like it’s all getting a bit _boring_ , if you get what I mean.”

“ _Boring?_ ” Snufkin had sat up completely now. “What could you possibly mean by that?”

“Well, I dunno…” Moomin was being elusive with his eye contact, avoiding Snufkin’s direction altogether. “It’s all quite repetitive, you see. I seduce her with fancy words that have no real meaning behind them, and then we’ll sit together and hold hands. Don’t you think that that’d get a bit boring after a while?”

Snufkin couldn’t help but stare at him incredulously. “What are you talking about? When you’re in a romantic relationship, you should find absorption in their very presence — even more than with others, in fact.”

To his surprise, Moomin laughed. “Well then, if it’s like that, then I’d say it’s more like I’m in a romantic relationship with you than anyone!” His chuckles made it evident that he considered his comment quite the joke, but the mere idea made Snufkin freeze in shock — it was only when he realized the very tips of his ears were burning hot that he forced a shaky arm to move, pulling his hat back over his eyes and more thankful than ever that Moomin still hadn’t glanced his way.

He had to say something to avoid giving himself away, so Snufkin’s words trickled from his throat in a mumble: “If you’re so concerned about what a romantic relationship is composed of, what do you already know?” Though he couldn’t see Moomin, he could hear fur being scratched in thought.

“Well, I said it before but, usually we just talk to each other and sit beside each other, and sometimes hold hands.”

“That’s not very different from our relationship, Moomin,” Snufkin found himself saying before he was aware. Suddenly it became suffocating under his hat as his face warmed. _Stupid_. “Is there anything else…? Other than that, I mean.”

“Umm…” Moomin was thinking too hard about this; it was all making Snufkin wonder what really constituted a romantic relationship. (Had he thought about it before? Not necessarily. Or at least not to an extent that he’d admit to). His heart fluttered in his chest when an idea popped into his head. His mouth felt dry.

“Have you ever kissed?”

Moomin was silent for a few moments, and because Snufkin couldn’t see his friend, he had almost no means of being able to read him. Unnecessary nerves coiled uncomfortably in his stomach like a pit of snakes, threatening to bite at his heart. He laced his hands over his stomach, squeezing them together to avoid pulling at anything else. Even his breaths felt a little too regulated.

“Have you?”

It felt like Snufkin’s very soul fell from his body and was being dragged down to the earth. His world was spinning around him, tossing him about like a ship crew in a sea storm, even though he was lying flat on his back. A lump formed in his throat, and each ticking second only added to the tension between them.

“ _What?_ ” was all Snufkin managed to croak out, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I mean, have you ever kissed anyone?” Moomin rushed out to explain himself. “What… What’s it supposed to feel like?”

After a few seconds of contemplation, Snufkin decided that risking his embarrassment (which he could contain better than he would give himself credit for) would be worth analyzing the micro-expressions that would flit across his friend. Sitting up, he took off his hat and brushed it off, slowly setting it to the side.

“No, I have not,” he answered plainly, willing himself the courage to look up at Moomin. To his surprise, Moomin was staring back at him curiously, gently prying. “However, though I do not like to make assumptions, I’d assume it should be… pleasurable.” He mentally cursed himself for his word choice, but in retrospect, he didn’t think that he would have been able to find a better synonym either way.

“Pleasurable?” Snufkin duly noted how Moomin’s ears twitched.

“Warm, I think. Like laying out in the tulip fields on a cool summer day.”

“Hmm…”

“And perhaps your heart pounds to a merry tune that you can’t quite keep up with.”

“Doesn’t that sound uncomfortable?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe it feels more like you’re floating.”

“Is that so?”

Snufkin pinched his leg, reminding himself that he was nothing but an advisor. “Have you ever felt any of that before?”

Moomin rubbed at his chin, staring up at the sky. “Well, you see, we’ve only ever nuzzled each other, and even then, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything you just described. It was just something I _did_.” Snufkin had to restrain himself from being blunt again.

“Then why are you forcing yourself to do it?”

He shrugged. “Because it’s part of being in a relationship, isn’t it?”

“You shouldn’t subject yourself to something you aren’t comfortable with.”

“It’s not like I’m uncomfortable with it, per say… I just don’t feel anything more about it.”

Snufkin pouted. He didn’t say anything and couldn’t think of anything to say, so instead he pouted for a very long time. He spent a while considering whether or not to be frank with his best friend, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to go in _that_ direction.

“Well, aside from kissing,” Moomin continued, as if nothing he had said had been wrong by any means, “is there anything else that people do when they are together?”

 _No_ , the frustration itched worse than just a mere mosquito bite, so Snufkin simply _had_ to test out the waters. “Isn’t a relationship based mainly on the feelings each person has for each other? Actions are supposed to come from those feelings themselves.”

Now it was Moomin’s turn to look shocked. He wasn’t shocked at Snufkin, of course, but Snufkin could tell his words had sprouted a realization that was beginning to dawn inside the moomin. He could almost hear the cogs turning in his head, chugging along slowly in their unused condition. 

And because Snufkin felt compelled to say something else, the words fell from his mouth before he thought better of it: “Are you sure there’s really something there for Snorkmaiden? Or are you just grasping at straws?”

An expression of being aghast; internal conflict, was the best Snufkin could have described what he saw. Then, a look of offence. 

“What on earth are you on about, Snufkin? Why would I be in a relationship with Snorkmaiden otherwise? You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Snufkin recoiled: this was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. Switching his attention back to the river, he stared at the swirling eddies, searching for any trace of a fish. Well, at least the seed had been planted — he had managed to bite the bullet at last. That was something to feel accomplished about, was it not?

He toyed with the frayed ends of his sleeves and sighed. “You know, Moomin… it’s quite alright to script your words and act as a grand gesture for your… significant other,” Snufkin began hesitantly, resurfacing the older topic, “if it gives you confidence, that is. It shows that there was a lot of thought put into your affection and that you want to do something special for them — it’s just when you do it for every interaction you have, it almost seems like the relationship is merely a play itself.”

Luckily, this time round, Moomin remained quiet. Snufkin’s words were still blunt but not quite as harsh as before. When he took the chance to glance at his friend, he noticed that Moomin, too, sat staring at the swirling water, pondering the meaning of Snufkin’s words. Relatively satisfied, Snufkin turned back to his fishing pole.

“Say…” Moomin piped up again after a while, voice considerably softer than his outburst. “Don’t mumriks kiss quite differently than moomins? How do I know you’re right? How am I to know if it all feels the same?”

Moomin was too cruel, luring Snufkin in with the most sinful of temptation. His fingers clenched, rolling into his palm in fists. His teeth clamped down on what was left of his grass, chewing aggressively against the remaining grains to stop him from saying anything — he didn’t trust himself anymore. What would he even say? _Well, there’s only one way to find out_ — that was too… but how would he even progress from there? _Would you like to find out?_ Snufkin almost slapped his own face to stop his thoughts dead in their tracks. 

_And despite everything, Moomin was still oblivious as ever, wasn’t he?_

“Oh, I think you got something to bite.”

Snufkin blinked. Alas, there was his own fishing rod, straining against the rocks he had wedged it between.

“I suppose you’re right.”

As Snufkin reached for his rod and pulled the fish from water, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had escaped a close call or missed what could only be a dream.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


  1. _Affection_



  
  


Perhaps the reason springtime is so precious is because of how fleeting it is in nature. There is only one time a year that the grass sprouts, growing fresh and luxuriously green as spring showers are plentiful and the first summer drought has not yet appeared. There is only one time a year that trees burst into bright colours, doused in the sweet scent of the blossoms freckled amongst their branches. There is only one time a year the migrating folk set up camp in the valley for the warm months, singing and whistling merry tunes as they collect materials for their nests. There is only one time a year that the brightest of flowers dot fields in the thousands, assuring their presence as their wondrous scent wafts atop the gentle breezes. 

And there is only one time a year that Snufkin returns to Moominvalley, greeting his best friend with song.

Though their reunion had passed by a week or two now, the buzz of joy still hummed through Snufkin like an electric current, slowly waning as he settled back into his spot by the stream. Now, Snufkin took pleasure in simpler matters, where he was content with lazing in weather that would only be so perfect once a year and reminiscing over the small interactions that would occur between Moomin and himself.

Today was a prime example of this happiness.

The Moomins had taken one look at the fine weather they had as they woke up and decided that it was perfect for a picnic, so Moominmamma packed up a bag full of food and essentials before the entire family left for the morning, accompanied by none other than Sniff, Little My, and Snorkmaiden. They had caught Snufkin just as he was finishing up his breakfast, encouraging him to tag along for the day. (Snufkin had, in fact, been contemplating milling around the Moominhouse to observe what Moomin got up to that day, and it was only with the promise of some adventure that he agreed to accompany the band).

And that was how they ended up in a field of flowers on the top of a foothill bordering the Lonely Mountains. Snufkin was sure it was the same field he and Moomin often snuck off to more times than he could count, spending entire afternoons chatting aimlessly and dozing. Something irked him in the way Moomin now sat shoulder to shoulder with Snorkmaiden, his back to Snufkin. Still, Snufkin sat in the lush grass under one of the sole trees in the field, paying no mind to her apple blossom petals occasionally drifting onto his clothes as he continued to play his harmonica.

Though Snufkin was content to play variations on the same little tune for as long as he pleased, he sustained the melody and then let it drop off with an authentic cadence, letting his hands and harmonica fall into his lap. Blinking lazily, he watched as Snorkmaiden taught Moomin how to weave flower crowns from the blossoms within their reach. Their fur blended in easily with the snowy white apple blossom petals that dotted the grass around them.

“No, no, no, Moomin! Put the stem here so that it doesn’t fall apart.”

“I _told_ you I’m not very good at this!”

“You’re doing fine. See? Each loop is getting better.”

“But it’s so loose…”

“I can help fix it if you want-”

“No, no- it’s alright, really! I wanna do it myself.”

Snufkin had to fight the smile that crept on his face. Something about Moomin’s stubbornness was almost endearing. 

Not too far from the couple, Little My sat almost completely hidden amongst the flowers, concentrating very hard on making a perfect flower crown of her own. She’d take the time to dish out the occasional jeer to the others to maintain her competition (which only she cared about, and perhaps Moomin as well, which is why he was so disdained at the gaps in his crown thus far) before lapsing into an unusual silence. Sometimes she’d even disappear, having been crawling in the grasses to find her next victim (the perfect flower). Sniff opted to stay by the picnic blanket with the other Moomins, lethargically snacking on some post-lunch grapes like an ancient wealthy Roman. Moominmamma was quietly reading a book as Moominpappa grumbled about novel ideas and apple blossom petals getting into his tea.

A light breeze washed over the group, enticing the leaves in the trees and the grass at their feet to whisper secrets unbeknownst to them. A few more petals fell on Snufkin’s lap, and he half-heartedly brushed one off of his instrument.

What could he play now? The sun was warm and the environment maintained a peaceful silence, encouraging a feeling that was sweet like honey to seep into Snufkin’s very bones. Would it be appropriate to play a bard song like Ragnar the Red? Or would something more playful be more suited? 

Snufkin’s gaze drifted back to the couple in front of him. _No…_ he didn’t think he could pull off something so lighthearted. He watched as Moomin nudged his shoulder closer to Snorkmaiden, gently rubbing their fur together. Snufkin’s very chest ached as he watched Snorkmaiden lean her head against Moomintroll.

In all honesty, Snufkin didn’t want to wear his heart on his sleeve, but he knew that to put his heart into his music, he’d have to play something a little more solemn. The first song that came to mind was a little folk tune he was introduced to in one of his winter travels; it had sprouted from an unknown source in a grange called Horkstow as Snufkin had been napping. This song of Horkstow Grange was wistful, but still sweet — a bit like the taste of nostalgia.

Smiling softly, Snufkin brought his harmonica to his lips and blew. It didn’t matter how much of the song he remembered — the feeling was already strong enough as he played around with the melody, saying all he couldn’t speak into the escaping notes. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and continued.

“Moomin! How do I look?” Snorkmaiden had spoken up, and Snufkin was paying attention just enough to idly eavesdrop on her conversation.

“Beautiful, I’m sure.”

“ _Moomin!_ You didn’t even look at me!”

Snufkin’s breath escaped quicker than he had meant it to, and his held note tapered off much too quickly. He squeezed his eyes even tighter shut before relaxing them, urging himself not to give into temptation and watch the scene unfold.

“But I finally figured out how to do this!”

“Is your flower crown really more important than _me?_ ”

As distressed as Snorkmaiden sounded, Moomin went silent instead of reassuring her. Snufkin paused in his song to catch his breath before continuing. 

Moomin sighed. “It does look quite beautiful on you, I guess?”

“You _guess?_ ”

“That’s not what I mean! I- You- You look like an absolute princess!”

“Why did you hesitate?”

“I can’t always think up words right on the spot!” Moomin exhaled slowly before continuing. “Look, Snorkmaiden: that flower crown really suits you. I mean it.”

“Thank you, Moomin.”

Their mood probably remained tense after their bicker, but Snufkin only saw it as the tone of his song being reflected in more than just himself. Letting the (somewhat compromised) peace settle back in, he put all of his energy into his music.

It couldn’t have been a few more minutes until Little My said something petty again, and then a few minutes more until Moominpappa cried out in excitement (he had thought of the perfect analogy between a lighthouse and a hermit, which was essential, of course, to a story regarding mountain range travels). Then there was another slight breeze that began to tug at Snufkin’s hat.

After a moment of consideration, Snufkin’s tune trailed off with the wind, realizing that the force shifting his hat may not have been completely from that of the breeze. Blinking his eyes open slowly, he looked up to see Moomin standing cautiously in front of him, peering down at his friend. A second or two later, the wind returned, stronger this time, forcing Snufkin to bring a hand to anchor the brim of his hat. His eyes stayed on Moomin all the while.

Oh, how magical the scene looked. It was absolutely breathtaking: the wind swept up all of the loose apple blossom petals from the tree’s branches, dusting them around the two like fragrant snowflakes. Somehow, Moomin’s clean, white fur blended in perfectly with the scene, making him feel almost like some sort of illusion. Even when the wind was gone, the petals fluttered down around them, prolonging their surreal moment.

Snufkin’s hands lingered by his hat, noticing the cluster of larger petals that circled his hat with the tips of his fingers. 

“There’s some petals on your hat.” Moomin’s voice was soft. His eyes crinkled around the edges and his ears were relaxed. Snufkin’s breath momentarily caught in his chest.

“So there is.”

“You’re absolutely _covered_ in them,” he pointed out, rather playfully.

Snufkin had long realized trying to shake the petals off was futile, but now, under the scrutiny of his best friend, he wished to keep as still as possible to make sure nothing fell from his head. Carefully, he moved his hand to touch his new flower crown.

“Did you finish it already?”

“I got the hang of it eventually. I hope it doesn’t fall apart.”

“I bet it looks absolutely marvelous.”

“You know, Snufkin,” said Moomin, so fondly that Snufkin almost melted, “it looks so much better on you than I thought it would.”

“Am I supposed to take that as criticism?”

“Not at all. You look absolutely stunning.”

Moomin stood there, staring back at what must have been an awestruck Snufkin (which he would have shown in his own way — Snufkin was never one to be obvious). It took Snufkin a while to realize he was lingering, waiting for a response. Grinning, Snufkin blinked happily at him.

“Thank you, Moomintroll. I’ll cherish it.”

And what an idiotic thing to say about such a perishable gift. Yet nonetheless, Snufkin would no doubt see if he could press his crown later, finding use for it as a bookmark rather than having to eventually leave it behind. 

Seeming satisfied with how his gift was welcomed, Moomin made his way back down to Snorkmaiden’s side, yet this time, instead of sitting beside her, he rolled over onto his tummy to look up at Snufkin, his cheeks in his paws and his elbows planted in the grass. Not once did Snufkin’s gaze leave his friend.

“Was there a song you were wanting to hear?” Snufkin asked mischievously, wondering the motive behind Moomin’s sudden change in demeanor. 

“Not particularly,” he hummed, flicking his ears. “Though I suppose something light and happy would be nice.”

It only took Snufkin a dozen or so seconds to dig through his memory for a melody to dance around until he remembered another one of his adventures by a faraway port where he had met a brisk young sailor (who returned to wed his True Love), who had been whistling the same merry tune that Snufkin now improvised with for his dear friend Moomintroll.

Thus the warm and sunny afternoon in the foothill flower field progressed, where Moominpappa wrote stories in his head, Moominmamma read her book, Sniff continued to eat grapes, Little My collected enough flowers for a dozen crowns, Snorkmaiden sighed at pretty blossoms, and Moomintroll listened to Snufkin play his harmonica, kicking his legs gently in the air to the rhythm of Snufkin’s song.

And somehow, by some blessed miracle, all was good.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


  1. _Generosity_



  
  


The long summer day was finally nearing a close, and Snufkin quietly ate his supper as the sun still hovered over the horizon. He was proud of having caught the perfect fish just earlier, where its meat was juicy over the fire and it completely satiated his hunger. Having washed up in the stream and allowing the last dregs of sunshine along with the dimming fire to dry him, Snufkin finished off his meal with berries and greens.

This was a perfect night, Snufkin had thought to himself: it wasn’t too dry and the air was still fresh since it had rained earlier in the day, but the grass didn’t wet Snufkin’s clothes any longer. Two different birds chattered in trees near his tent, and some frogs had crept out and began to sing.

When Snufkin reached for another berry and realized he had eaten through his entire pouch, he sat himself up and brushed his legs off, stretching for the first time since having eaten. Yawning, he considered playing his harmonica before finally calling it a night, absently wondering which tunes he could practice.

“Snufkin!”

Snufkin’s ears perked at the noise of his name and footsteps pitter-pattering towards him in the distance, but he remained his usual calm, refusing to turn around until Moomin was close enough. He smiled absentmindedly.

“Snufkin! Snufkin, I- _oof!”_ Moomin stumbled momentarily in his run, immediately lowering his voice as he caught sight of his home over his shoulder. “Snufkin! What are you doing?”

“Good evening, Moomin. I just finished eating. What are you doing out and about this late?”

Moomin’s ears twitched back slightly, and he held his paws behind his back as he shifted from foot to foot, not quite meeting Snufkin’s eyes. Snufkin, ever the one for rule-breaking, tilted his head back so he could observe his friend without the brim of his hat obscuring his vision.

“Oh?” he hummed, the corners of his lips tugging slyly. “Did you sneak out?”

“It’s not my fault!” Moomin said automatically, waving his arms out in front of himself. “I just- I just… had somewhere secret… I wanted to show you something, but it’s a _secret_. No one else can know.”

Snufkin raised his eyebrows. “No one?”

“It’s, well… here just… follow me! And bring your lamp; I forgot to get mine while I was running out.” Checking that Snufkin was following, Moomin set out towards the forest at the base of the mountains, strides slow enough that he and Snufkin were walking side-to-side.

Twilight in Moominvalley was always absolutely gorgeous. The wood creaked under their footsteps as they crossed Moominpappa’s wooden bridge, and the crickets and frogs were the only noises to break the sound of the babbling creek. More and more the two began to rely on Snufkin’s lamp, lighting a few paces in front of them — especially as they got into the forest.

“ _This way,_ ” Moomin whispered, as if still hiding from something. He began to step off the trail, essentially bushwhacking through less-familiar territory.

“ _You didn’t get lost?_ ” Snufkin whispered back, just for the fun of it. A branch caught briefly in his coat, and Moomin waited patiently as he untangled himself.

Moomin shook his head. “ _Everyone was busy today, so I decided to do some exploring-_ ”

_“Won’t it be easier for you to get lost if you’re exploring by yourself?”_

_“Well... you do it all the time, don’t you?”_

_“Yes, but I grew up doing that all of my life.”_

_“I’m fine, Snufkin. I tied a piece of string from a big ball to that tree by the path and unrolled the string as I explored. When I came back from… well, when I came back, I remembered the path by putting down those piles of stones every few paces.”_ Moomin pointed to a haphazard pile of small sticks and stones by the foot of a large tree.

“ _That is… very wise of you, Moomin._ ”

Though he couldn’t see a blush in the dimness of the forest regardless of the lamp, Snufkin could guess by the bashful smile that creeped across his friend’s snout. _“Yes, ah… thank you, Snufkin.”_

They walked quite a bit longer, to the point that Snufkin wondered truly how much string Moomin had balled up for his little excursion. Snufkin was also quite used to the forest at night, but he could tell that Moomin was drifting just slightly closer to him. Gently enough for it to seem like an accident, Snufkin let his arm swing close enough for his hand to just brush against Moomin’s paw. Moomin’s paw flinched at the contact, which was almost enough to scare Snufkin away, until Moomin’s paw tentatively found its way back, grasping onto Snufkin’s sleeve. Snufkin was secretly glad for the caliginosity of the forest that hid how he smiled like an idiot.

“I…” Moomin begun, hesitating. Snufkin didn’t say anything, so he waited for his friend to continue as Moomin’s grasp tightened. “It’s just… when I found this hideout, I thought it would be something cool I could show Snorkmaiden, and I just wanted to see what your opinion was first.”

Something rotten settled in Snufkin’s stomach. Really, he should’ve known better, but this far into their trek had really raised his hopes. He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat, which led him to remain silent for a while.

“I’m sure it’ll be something quite special,” he finally settled on, forcing a smile through his words. With a glance to his side, he barely caught how Moomin’s posture relaxed slightly.

“I think it is,” Moomin beamed, swishing his tail. Snufkin curled his palm that wasn’t holding the lantern into a fist, hoping that Moomin couldn’t feel the motion. “We’re almost there.”

Snufkin hummed in response, but the exhaustion that settled in kept him from saying anything further. Bitterly, he thought about what Moomin could have possibly found, and whether or not Snorkmaiden would truly appreciate its significance.

“Oh,” Moomin sighed in awe, brushing some branches to the side. “We made it.”

At first, Snufkin couldn’t see much but the start of a field patch, so he lifted the lantern so the light could spill onto the scene like warm honey. Letting his eyes adjust, it was then that Snufkin spotted Moomin’s hideout.

It didn’t look like much. The small clearing could have either been by chance or the result of someone needing the wood for the little shack that leaned against the cliffside they had stumbled upon. Where the original owner of the shack was located was a mystery to either of them, because the wood was beginning to rot under all the moss that now claimed it home. Snufkin was honestly surprised he hadn’t stumbled upon the clearing before.

“That’s… _gorgeous_ , Moomin,” Snufkin murmured at last, already rushing forward to investigate. Moomin beat him to the chase, racing ahead to the door that was leaning off its hinges.

“That’s not even the best part!” Moomin said, tail swishing with uncontained excitement. “Wait ‘till you see what’s inside!”

Hopping in before the mumrik, Snufkin could hear some rustling around inside the shed before he stepped in as well, offering the illumination of his lamp to reveal the shack’s contents. The shed itself was almost like a very large closet with a few windows, but stacked to the ceiling were probably dozens and maybe even hundreds of records, protected from the weather by the wooden roof. Faded colours hinted at the broad range of music each record offered. Snufkin was too astounded to even know where to begin looking.

“Isn’t this cool?” Moomin understated. His ears were perked and his eyes bright, and Snufkin was momentarily enraptured by the absolute elation his friend embodied — his eyes only snapped back to the vinyls when Moomin disappeared around a corner, evidently searching for something. “And do you know what’s even better? Come over here, Snufkin!”

Snufkin found his friend crammed into the very corner of the shack, fussing over some old box. When he figured out how to open it at last, Snufkin was further amazed to see a rather well-preserved record player.

“I haven’t tried it yet,” Moomin began rambling, “but I think it works! It doesn’t look broken, and I don’t know how old it is, but even the box has been protected all this time! Oh, _Snufkin…_ what if it does work, even better than the one Moominpappa found?”

“Well I suppose we won’t know until we try.”

Carefully picking a cover conveniently beside the record player box, Snufkin took the record out and placed it inside the record player, tinkering with it until he figured out it functioned. He had a feeling that there was something magical about this place, because in seconds the player crackled to life, filling the space with waltzing strings and a mellow saxophone lilting through the air.

The two were frozen where they were, spellbound by the thrumming of the song’s pulse and enchanted with the addition of every instrument. With the introduction of the string section playing the melody romantically, the two swayed in their spot, filled with utter peace.

“Do you… do you know how to dance to this, Snufkin?”

Snufkin cocked his head to the side, half of his brain following the music and the other half pondering Moomin’s question. He smiled dazedly, reminiscing over his travels.

“I’ve picked up my fair share of dances as well as songs during my winters,” he replied. “This one is a waltz.”

“Can…” Moomin’s ears passively twitched back. “Can we try it?”

At first, Snufkin was at a loss for words. A cymbal crashed at the entrance of a new theme in the piece. His breath swelled and then ebbed inside of his chest, grounding him as a smile spread across his face.

“Well, we’d need more leg room for that to happen,” he said, already moving to the closest window. “Come on: help me open up the windows.” Visibly straightening, Moomin dashed off to the other window in the shack, almost wrenching it from its hinges to free it. Snufkin held his hand out, patiently waiting for Moomin to accept his offer. Taking it, they drifted back outside, taking each other’s hands and shifting into the appropriate dance positions.

“You know a little about dancing, correct?” Snufkin murmured. Moomin nodded eagerly in reply. “Well, this time, we still mirror each other, but it’s in three. _One_ two three, _one_ two three, _one_ two three…” he began counting to the beat, slowly encouraging his friend to move along with him. Moomin’s snout kept them apart as he tried to stare at his feet. A trombone took over the melody, reintroducing the first theme.

“I can’t see anything at all,” Moomin giggled. Being this close, Snufkin couldn’t help but notice Moomin couldn’t meet his eyes. Though, the more he thought about it, maybe it was the better option for his own wellbeing. “I guess we forgot the lantern inside.” Sure enough, Snufkin glanced over to the shack, seeing how light escaped the windows along with the sounds of waltzing strings and winds.

“Perhaps we don’t need the light of the lantern. Look.”

Moomin blinked, stumbling over his feet momentarily, before looking over their shoulders and around them in awe. 

In the bushes and trees, surrounding them in every direction, emerged dozens of little fireflies, joining in with their own little dance. They glowed like galaxies in the air, illuminating the clearing just enough for the two friends to see each other and the scene around them.

“You’ve really outdone yourself, Moomin,” Snufkin said, tightening his hold on Moomin’s paw. He couldn’t stop staring at how the firefly glow shone in Moomin’s eyes, encapsulating the sheer wonder shimmering in the air. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t know…” Moomin trailed off softly. He never continued, but he didn’t need to: Snufkin already knew what he was trying to say.

The song approached a grand finale, and, in finding confidence that their skills had effectively synchronized, Snufkin slowed them to a stop, simple but definite to the final cadence.

“Oh, Snufkin… that was wonderful!” Moomin gushed, clasping his paws tighter. “Please… please, let’s do another song.”

“We can dance to as many songs as you’d like, Moomin.”

The next song on the record crackled to life, starting slower than the previous, the intro of an oboe solo hanging peacefully in the air above them, followed by that of a clarinet. Without a concrete beat to follow yet, their focus remained on each other, too distracted to admire the breathtaking scene around them any longer.

Retreating his hands, Snufkin took a step back and bowed slowly, in time with the freedom of the introduction. Holding his arm out, he glanced up from underneath the brim of his hat charmingly, grinning.

“May I have this dance, Moomintroll?”

Moomin flushed slightly at the use of his entire name, and he played with the tips of his paws. “I would be delighted, Snufkin.” Holding out a paw, he accepted Snufkin’s offer, letting them join hands once again and return to their previous stance, just in time for the waltz to begin.

Slowly at first, Snufkin began to lead, letting them sway from side to side, gently nudging Moomin in the direction he was going. Moomin had long forgotten about looking at his feet, content with gazing back at Snufkin. 

“You figured it out quite quickly,” Snufkin observed, noting how Moomin was following his lead with more and more ease. Moomin laughed.

“It’s not that difficult, Snufkin.”

“Still. I’m impressed. Did you want to try some slightly more difficult steps?”

“I’d love to.”

Having naturally figured out how to maneuver around the grassy field effortlessly, Snufkin decided to start with a simple spin. They only fumbled slightly when their arms weren’t quite long enough for Moomin to twirl under, but they quickly returned to their primary stance in a few beats, laughing and grinning uncontrollably at their mistake. It only took a few more stepping patterns before Moomin tried again, this time successfully spinning Snufkin under their arms until they returned smoothly back to their original step.

Giggling, Moomin squeezed Snufkin’s hand. “I guess it works better that way.”

“I suppose it does,” Snufkin replied, failing to suppress the upward curve of his lips.

At a leisurely pace, Snufkin showed his friend a series of different steps they could use to vary their dance: letting go of one hand and spinning away so that they were side to side seemed to be a favorite of theirs, but spinning around each other while moving through space like celestial orbiting binary system had them tripping over their feet the first few times an attempt had taken place. Nevertheless, between trial and error, stumble and success, they kept on moving, reverting back to their simple three-step.

“-to which I responded, no, I had not, and to my surprise, the heap of what I thought was a mushroom patch in the grass was actually Mumu!” Snufkin grinned at how Moomin giggled into his shoulder, his fur rubbing against Snufkin’s cheek as they danced. “It was like a mushroom had suddenly sprouted legs and was busy scurrying around our own. Lunox was almost rolling around in the grass they were laughing so hard.”

“Oh, I wish I could’ve seen your _face_!” Moomin said, still cackling. “That must have been the reason they were laughing so hard.”

Snufkin hummed. “Yes, well… Lunox was quite the odd one. It’s not often you see another mumrik around. I think they were from further north —thicker fur— but were down for the winter to visit some old friends.”

“Mumriks really must have adventure in their genes.”

“Quite the cunning character. Must be a northern thing.”

“Still sounds just as deviant as the mumrik I know.”

“Hm, well. Either way, they knew the most incredible songs, and such a wide range, too. I’m sure I’ve played some of them before, but I should really show you them sometime.”

“Oh, do you have any other stories? Any other interesting creatures you’ve met over your travels?” Moomin gushed, lifting his snout from Snufkin’s shoulder. His head was tilted to the side, and Snufkin couldn’t help but gaze back endearingly.

“Well, I have told you about the Gem Queen before, have I not?”

“I love that story!”

“Yes, well… to be quite honest, I’ve been meaning to see good old Panu again, I suppose. I never quite got the chance to hear his flute and would rather like to one of these days. Perhaps he will stop by Moominvalley and you will have the opportunity to meet him as well.”

“Oh, I wish I could go on these adventures with you, Snufkin.”

“As do I. Though, we both know that it is better you stay.”

“But why? Moominpappa-”

“Yes, and maybe someday, but you know why.”

Moomin paused for a while, lost in thought but still following Snufkin’s lead automatically. His ears were tilted back in defeat, and his eyes trailed the ground. Snufkin frowned momentarily.

“I need something to come back to,” he continued. His friend didn’t say anything, but he could tell that the moomin’s features softened. “You do realize it’s what makes spring the most important time of year, do you not?”

Still, Moomin was silent, but he took a deep breath, relaxing completely. Snufkin spun him until he was half dipped, and Moomin let himself look up again into his friend’s eyes. There was conflict going on inside of the moomin, and Snufkin let himself observe for just a beat too long, having to wait slightly longer to twirl Moomin back to their original position and reestablish the beat.

“I don’t think I ever want this to end,” Moomin sighed. They drifted to and fro, treading to the push and pull of the orchestra. 

Snufkin kept his gaze trained on the creature in front of him. “All good things must come to an end; how else are we supposed to return?”

Moomin frowned, but in seeing the way Snufkin was looking at him, he couldn’t help but crack his millionth genuine smile of the night. His sight drifted off to the shack again, watching as the fireflies waltzed with them.

In a bout of self-despair, Snufkin abruptly remembered something his friend had mentioned earlier and decided to resurface the topic once again: “I’m sure Snorkmaiden will love this place.”

The smile across Moomin’s snout paused before falling. They still danced together, but Moomin felt… distant. Like his head was lost in the clouds. It’s not that he wouldn’t look at Snufkin, but more like he was trying to organize something in his mind. Snufkin resisted the urge to squeeze his hands. His heart beat in his throat, convincing him that he had just ruined the moment.

Just before Snufkin could dig himself too deep into a hole of emotional repression, Moomin spoke up again, softly: “I don’t think she’d appreciate it as much as you do.”

It was… almost like he had forgotten about the entire purpose of this visit. Well, that would make the two of them. Snufkin poised himself carefully, putting all of his thoughts into his movements so as to not let himself think too hard. 

Moomin finally turned his full attention to the mumrik, punching out all of the air in Snufkin’s lungs in the process. His eyes were wide and he squeezed Snufkin’s hand.

“You’ll keep this a secret, won’t you?” 

Forcing himself to breathe, Snufkin nodded twice. Moomin beamed.

“This can be our little secret.”

Snufkin almost felt ready to pass out. He hadn’t even been dancing for that long. 

The song finally slowed to an end and they stopped, dropping their hands to catch their breath. Some other song began to play, but neither moved to continue dancing, preoccupied with staring at each other for a while.

“I think I need to take a breather for a little bit,” Moomin admitted, sitting himself down. Snufkin felt like a tension was released that he wasn’t even aware of, and he laid down beside his friend in an instant.

“Would you like to learn some more dances I’ve picked up over my travels?” he asked, stretching his arms and tucking his hands underneath his head. “From what I could tell, there is quite the music selection in that shack of yours.”

Moomin’s interest was instantly captured. “You know _more_?”

“Of course. We could always start with swing, which is a bit like a modified waltz and sometimes a bit faster, but we could also try our hand at salsa or tango-”

In the end, not much more dancing was achieved. They did change the record once to an odd sort of music titled “ _Plantasia_ ”, but then took to lying back in the clearing once again to just listen. The night became alive in a different way it did with the waltzes: the grass and the leaves swayed along to the sound of synthetic instruments, and the fireflies, still floating above their heads, made the music a part of their own little world.

A secret for just the two of them…

It was not the first secret Snufkin held between them by far, but there was something special about the ethereal microcosm they existed in for the moment.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


  1. _Communication_



  
  


“Oh, Snufkin… _will we ever see land again?_ ”

To say that Snufkin was irritated with Snorkmaiden was an understatement.

“You can see the cliffs right there,” he deadpanned. Still, he made no attempt to row the raft, letting it be carried out to sea.

Then again, if he _did_ make an effort, the sooner he could put as much distance between the snork and himself as he could. 

Maybe he’d just settle with taking a nap.

“Oh dear!” Snorkmaiden cried, playing with her tail nervously. “There’s Moomin over there!” Sure enough, Snufkin scraped up enough energy to look out to where Snorkmaiden was pointing, just to see Moomin in his raft (with a missing Little My, but she was probably just taking a nap), waving his hands wildly. “He needs help!”

Snufkin squinted his eyes, not so sure. Still, he refrained from saying anything.

“Moomin! Moomin! We’ll help you!” she cried, forgetting that there was no way Moomin could hear her panicking. Snufkin rolled his eyes, watching Moomin get more and more frustrated.

“I think he’s doing fine.”

“How could you _say_ that?” Snorkmaiden whipped around to him, aghast. “Moomin is clearly in danger and there’s nothing we can do about it!” The look on her face when Snufkin laughed was absolutely priceless. She glared at him and immediately turned back to hold her cheeks anxiously in her hands.

Snufkin garnered even more amusement when Moomin finally threw his hands up in the air, gawking at the sky in disbelief. 

Sighing, Snufkin sat up completely, facing Moomin so that his friend knew he was paying attention. Luckily, it only took a few seconds for Moomin to realize, because then he was gesturing wildly. Arms circled around his head like a halo, then there was rapid pointing to somewhere just behind him around a corner. 

Cocking his head to the side, Snufkin patted the edge of his own raft and hit his fist into an open palm repeatedly. Moomin frowned before shaking his head, patting the rock of the cliff his raft was stuck against, pushing out a palm a few times in Snufkin’s direction before pointing at his wrist. Snufkin nodded in understanding.

“What’s he doing?” Snorkmaiden wondered, her voice still wavering slightly. Snufkin ignored her.

First, Snufkin pointed his finger quickly between himself and Snorkmaiden before pointing in Moomin’s general direction. Moomin nodded, and then touched the tips of his paws together to form a triangular shape, pointing to the water directly in front of him. As Snufkin was nodding, Moomin let his pointed paw curve a path in the opposite direction of the cliff they were stopped against. Snufkin gave him two thumbs up.

“Moomin says they found a cave,” Snufkin finally explained, much to Snorkmaiden’s incredulity. “He also says they’re not stuck, just stopped. Oh, and we have to go around, because there’s some sharp rocks in the water directly between them.”

Snorkmaiden looked absolutely baffled. “How did you get all of that with just waving your arms around?”

Snufkin shrugged. “Telepathy.”

Moomin was motioning to him again, so Snufkin tuned out his unfortunate partner once again. This time, Moomin’s head was tilted, first putting his open palms together and underneath the side of his head before pointing to Snufkin. In response, Snufkin merely smiled and shook his head, giving his friend another thumbs up. Then, Moomin frowned again, pointing quickly across Snufkin’s raft before moving his pointed paw in a circular motion between himself and Snufkin. Though he felt warmth at the suggestion, Snufkin shrugged his shoulders again, pointing to Moomin before pointing to his own heart. It took him a few seconds, but then Moomin nodded in understanding.

“When did you two make up a whole secret language?” Snorkmaiden asked in awe with a touch of jealousy.

Snufkin couldn’t stop the beam that crept onto his face as he reached for the paddle.

“We never did.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


  1. _Trust_



  
  
  


Snufkin was just about ready to turn in for the night. The fire was burning low, giving him just enough light to see his camp with some clarity and to warm his fingers if he held out his hands close enough to the embers. He was debating on whether to put it out now or play one last song on his harmonica when he heard someone running towards him.

The footsteps stopped just at the edge of Snufkin’s camp, so he turned around to greet his friend. Though, at the sight of Moomin, Snufkin’s words caught in his throat.

“... Moomin?” he murmured instead, worry lacing his tone.

“I-” Moomin’s jaw wobbled slightly, and his voice cracked. “Can I… Can I stay here for a little bit?”

Snufkin blinked. “Yes, of course! As long as you need.”

Even with the permission, Moomin stayed where he was, avoiding Snufkin’s gaze and shifting from foot to foot. Understanding at once, Snufkin gestured to his tent and even held the flap open. Moomin forced out a smile before rushing in past him, sitting down in the corner just beside Snufkin’s sleeping bag. Snufkin offered his friend his blanket for a source of comfort, and Moomin happily accepted it, wrapping it around his shoulders like he was trying to drown himself in its warmth.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Snufkin began, treading carefully. He knew he wasn’t the best regarding emotional support, but every fiber of his being wanted to wash away the woe from his closest friend.

Moomin stared at the ground away from Snufkin. His snout scrunched up, trying to contain what was presumably an overflow of emotion. Snufkin sighed.

“I have some leftover milk that I should use up soon,” he continued, already beginning to leave the tent to let his friend sort through his thoughts. “Would you like some hot chocolate?”

A stiff nod was all he got in reply, so he left to prepare their drinks.

Moomin didn’t make so much as a peep as Snufkin warmed the hot chocolate. Granted, Snufkin did end up pulling out his harmonica to play some of Moomin’s favorite melodies, and any of his friend’s snuffling would have been drowned out for the most part. When the milk finally began to boil, Snufkin stowed away his instrument and set to look for two steel camping mugs. 

“You’ll need to sit up if you don’t want to spill any,” Snufkin said, reentering his tent with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. The mound underneath his blanket shifted, giving way to two snow-white ears. Snufkin sighed, setting his friend’s mug down in front of him and sat back against the other side of the tent. “Be careful: it’s still hot.”

Only a few moments passed in silence. Moomin’s figure quivered, and Snufkin was pretty sure he heard a sniffle or two. He blew on his hot chocolate and took a few sips.

“No one believes me,” Moomin finally whispered. Snufkin smiled softly, taking his hat off and setting it to the side.

“Then what’s your side of the story?”

He took a minute or two longer to compose himself. His voice was still muffled due to the blanket, but he stayed where he was. At least his hot chocolate wouldn’t be boiling by the time he remembered it.

“Do you remember Nymfina?”

Snufkin nodded absently, forgetting that Moomin couldn’t see him. “The maiden we played with earlier, right?” She had wandered into Moominvalley that day and had taken a particular liking to Moomin. Snufkin had distinctly noticed how touchy Snorkmaiden had gotten with her in particular.

“Yes, well… when we were playing hide and seek together —when Snorkmaiden was the seeker— Nymfina decided to follow me so she could hide with me.” Moomin sighed and then shifted underneath the blanket. “She got scared and asked if I could hug her so she could feel better, so I did.”

“That’s very nice of you, Moomin,” he murmured. 

“I- I didn’t think there was anything wrong with that,” Moomin continued, “but after, Snorkmaiden started ignoring me no matter what I did. I got really frustrated, so instead of fighting I just went to show Nymfina around a bit more.”

“She was jealous?” Snufkin guessed.

“After Nymfina left, I tried to talk with Snormaiden again. She wouldn’t speak to me at first, but then she exploded and said I liked Nymfina instead of her. When I tried to tell her that it wasn’t true, she said she saw me hiding with Nymfina and what we did. I tried to explain to her — _I did!_ — but she wouldn’t listen to me no matter what.”

Snufkin’s brow furrowed. “Didn’t she just hug you? Because she was scared?”

“Yes but… she didn’t listen, she wouldn’t let me explain!” The blanket slipped off so that Moomin’s face was exposed to the rest of the tent, but his paws were covering his eyes in anguish. “She was convinced that I was betraying her, so I just left to go by the creek in the forest for a bit.

“When I returned home, I found out that Snorkmaiden went and told Moominmamma everything. She was still in the living room when I got back, and Moominmamma pulled me over to the kitchen and started scolding me for being unloyal. I tried explaining as well, but she said to not interrupt her until she was finished, so I got upset and left after she was done. That’s why I’m here.”

Snufkin frowned. No one had the chance to hear out Moomin’s side of the story. “I’m so sorry, Moomin.”

Moomin curled in on himself. “It’s not fair! Snorkmaiden is flightier than I ever will be, and I still stick with her! First there was the prince, and then there was free-spirit she almost ran off with… no one said anything then! And now, everyone’s blaming me when I didn’t do anything?”

“I’m not blaming you,” Snufkin said softly. He didn’t move, unsure if his friend wanted any physical reassurance, but he watched him take a deep breath to recentre himself. 

“Snufkin, I… Why. _Why is this happening to me?”_

He held his tongue. Snufkin knew it was in part due to miscommunication, but this also was something that wasn’t a surprise when it came to Snorkmaiden. Though, Snufkin had the feeling that maybe now wasn’t the best time to bring that whole issue up.

Standing up, Snufkin set his hot chocolate to the side and made his way to his best friend’s side, crouching by his face. Gently, he coaxed paws away from watery eyes and watched as a tear slipped through messy fur and down Moomin’s cheek. Moomin couldn’t hold his gaze, but Snufkin reached out to wipe the solitary tear away, patting down the disheveled fur.

“Whenever you’re ready —whether that’s tonight or tomorrow— we can go and talk to Moominmamma and Snorkmaiden together. I can help explain what happened, if you’d like,” he murmured, cupping his hand around Moomin’s cheek. Moomin sniffled a little bit before leaning into the touch.

“Thank you, Snufkin,” he said at last. His eyes shut, probably out of both mental and emotional exhaustion. “Thank you for believing in me.”

Snufkin smiled. “I’ll always be here for you.” 

Shifting his hand up to his friend’s ears, he absently scratched at the fur underneath his fingers. Moomin nodded, and he patted his head before getting up again.

“Don’t let your hot chocolate get cold,” he continued, moving to go put his own mug away and get ready to retire for the night.

“Oh, um, yes… thank you, again.”

“Sweet dreams, Moomintroll.”

The giggle that Moomin let slip around his hot chocolate not only sounded genuine, but sounded like relief, like the safety one feels in what they deem worthy as home, and it was the sweetest thing Snufkin heard all night.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


+1. _Reciprocation_

  
  


_The hike itself wasn’t too rough — it was rather freeing, actually. Both Snufkin and Moomin had decided to walk a trail that went along the sides of the Lonely Mountains since the afternoon promised good weather, so they brought enough food to picnic for lunch._

_While trekking beside a cliff, Moomin veered too closely to the edge, and in an effort to ensure his friend’s safety, Snufkin’s feet moved before his mind did when he pushed him away from the precipice, letting himself tumble down with broken rock down the cliffside._

_He couldn’t hear much in the calamity of his fall. Sure, Moomin was shouting something in the distance, but all Snufkin could manage when his body stopped tumbling downwards was to roll around in agony before he passed out from the sharp pain in his ankle._

_When he finally woke up with a desperate moomin at his side, it took the two of them many hours longer than necessary to limp and be carried back to Moominhouse._

The bandages on his foot and ankle were well done, Snufkin would give Moominmamma that. He peered at it with disdain. Though it hurt too much to fully inspect it, Snufkin could still shift his own head around where it was propped up, despite the fact that only the tips of his toes were visible through the thick wrapping.

Lying back against the rock he was propped up against in defeat, Snufking sighed. As fate would have it, this all had to happen right before winter. There was still a couple more weeks, to Snufkin’s best estimate, but he doubted his ankle would agree to the long treks he usually took. 

Snufkin hated being depressed. Sure, he was occasionally prone to it if something arose to his disliking, but being anchored to one spot really hammered the nail on the head. He didn’t want to hibernate, but he had no idea what kind of a condition he’d be in by the time the snow fell. His insides sank until he felt like nothing more than a husk of a wilted flower.

“Snufkin?” a voice called softly from somewhere behind him. Snufkin didn’t have the energy to respond.

The owner of the voice shuffled a bit behind him. Snufkin didn’t put any effort into figuring out exactly what they were doing. When he opened his eyes again (without having noticed when he had closed them in the first place), he saw Moomin sitting beside him and watching his face, his ears poised cautiously.

“Snufkin?” he repeated himself, quieter than before. “How are you doing?”

Snufkin furrowed his brows, not really wanting to answer the question. Moomin sighed and looked at the ground.

“You don’t have to stay with me every day,” Snufkin finally mumbled, staring daggers into his cast. “I can’t do anything fun like this. You should be playing with Sniff and Little My… and… and Snorkmaiden.”

Moomin propped his elbow against the rock beside him, leaning his chin against the palm of his paw as he shook his head. “I really meant it when I said it, Snufkin. I _want_ to be here.”

Snufkin picked at a loose thread on his tunic.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Snufkin clenched his hands into fists.

“But I can’t do anything-” he began to protest, swiftly being interrupted by his friend.

“What do you mean?” Moomin asked incredulously. “What about fishing yesterday? And when I brought Moominpappa’s old chess board the day before? There’s plenty of things to do here.”

Snufkin, being as stubborn as he was, simply frowned.

“Snufkin,” Moomin said. “You’ve been so patient with me. You listen to me every time I’ve come to you with dumb worries about Snorkmaiden or whenever I’m upset, and you’ve always been there for me. You’re my best friend, Snufkin, and I think you forget that I want to be there for you, too.”

Blinking, Snufkin bit his lip. It was true: just spending time with Moomin made him forget about the pain, if slightly. 

“You can talk to me about anything,” Moomin continued. “Anything.”

There was a lot of things running through Snufkin’s mind. He didn’t “talk” much, and he didn’t like to. He couldn’t talk about how lonely he felt, wasting the only time he could interact with the Moominvalley folk by sitting motionless at his camp. He couldn’t talk about how his winter hike was going to be excruciating in every aspect. He couldn’t talk about how he felt when he missed the ocean, or when he missed the starry sky. He couldn’t talk about how he hated the predicament he had gotten himself into, but he’d rather do it all over again rather than Moomin face the exact same fate.

And he couldn’t talk about just how much it ached to see Snorkmaiden by Moomin’s side.

“It hurts,” he chose instead, controlling the quaver in his voice. “It hurts so much.”

“I know,” Moomin murmured, reaching out to grab Snufkin’s hand and rub it aimlessly. “I know.” Snufkin turned his hand over and squeezed back.

“I… Thank you. Thank you for letting me come back every year and always being here.”

Moomin beamed, but he didn’t say anything.

“I- I…”

_I love you._

Snufkin brought his hand to his face, keeping a tight grip on Moomin’s paw. Moomin let his arm follow, and watched reverently as Snufkin brought his paw to touch his own mouth, burying his face in the white fur there. He stayed there for a while, calming his breath as he inhaled Moomin’s scent.

“I… have a gift for you,” Moomin whispered, not wanting to interrupt the moment so abruptly. Snufkin took one last deep breath before letting go and slowly straightening. When he was free, Moomin stood up and made his way back around Snufkin, grabbing something.

When he came back, he held a gorgeous wooden cane, carved from a sturdy log but shaped elegantly at the handle. Moomin seemed bashful about his gift, but Snufkin just gaped at him.

“I made it myself,” he clarified. He shifted back and forth on each foot. “I knew you’d get depressed being grounded for so long, and I thought maybe it would help for when you leave for the winter-”

“It’s beautiful, Moomin.” From where Moomin stood, you could probably see stars in Snufkin’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” he mumbled, awkwardly handing it to Snufkin so his friend could inspect it. 

The woodwork was incredible. Sure, Moomin had some experience with woodwork with the canoe and a few other projects, but Snufkin could tell many hours had been laboured into the craftsmanship of this cane. He rolled it around in his palms, feeling how smooth every ridge of the cane was.

“I… um.” Moomin spoke up again, but found it slightly more difficult to find the words. When Snufkin looked up at him, he noted how his friend’s ears were laid back submissively. “I… finally talked with Snorkmaiden?”

Snufkin raised his eyebrows to indicate for him to continue.

Moomin cleared his throat. “Um… I was… I was thinking about it for a while, but I think, I thought, well, we both agreed that… it… wasn’t really working between us.”

Snufkin froze. Moomin froze.

“You broke up?” Snufkin asked in awe.

He was answered with a sharp nod.

“I.” _Wow_. Just… _wow_. “I’m… sorry.”

Moomin shrugged. “I think it’ll be better for us in the long run. She was kind of upset but… well… thank you.”

Snufkin nodded, but didn’t know what to say past that. Neither did Moomin, apparently. They sat there in silence, Snufkin too stunned to lament about his ankle. Moomin almost stood too still where he was. The silence wasn’t awkward, per se, but there was an incredible amount of tension permeating the scene.

“You know… I’ve been wondering,” Moomin hesitated. He pouted, staring out in front of the two of them. “How exactly _do_ mumriks kiss?”

Snufkin stopped breathing. 

“Um,” he replied, eloquently. “With their mouths, I think.”

“Ah. I see.”

Moomin looked way too satisfied for someone who got flustered way too easily. 

“Do you know how moomins kiss?”

“No.” And he didn’t dare guess where this could possibly be going.

“Well…” Moomin slyly dragged out, “I think it’s a little something like this.” And with that, he grabbed Snufkin’s hand and nuzzled at his fingers.

Snufkin blinked. He blinked again. His brain still didn’t catch the memo to start functioning again.

“You just kissed. My hand.”

“Well, your snout is kind of small…”

A loud, freeing laugh burst from the mumrik, enveloping him until he was wincing in pain from shifting his ankle too much. Even so, he took one glance at his friend’s baffled expression and the giggles tumbled from his lips anew. It only took a few seconds for Moomin to join his jubilance.

_Maybe everything will be alright after all._

**Author's Note:**

> In part two, the melodies snufkin plays are from [percy grainger's licolnshire posey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1FDk8__Nv4). the entire piece is renowned as one of the most complex wind ensemble pieces that exists, but the tunes referenced in particular are Horkstow Grange at 1:31 and The Brisk Young Sailor (who returned to wed his True Love) at 9:12 (you can skip in the description).
> 
> In part three, the first song that plays is the ever-famous [waltz no. 2 by shostakovich](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmCnQDUSO4I), and then the next is [Künstlerleben (Artist's Life) by johann strauss jr](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRTVoN95miM) (which is kind of bad audio wise but you actually get to see dancers).  
> edit: i accidentally forgot that i mentioned [plantasia](https://youtu.be/l0vrsO3_HpU), which is really cool because mort garson was a pioneer for the first synthetic music, and tho i didn't mention it, maybe i'll include that i found his stuff via [louie zong's greenhouse mini album](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKwZ-JMgdiE)
> 
> also, i guess it can be mentioned that some of the ocs mentioned are "real": panu is from another snufmin story i wrote you can find [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18812374), while lunox is my moominvalley oc and mumu is juliette's, both of whom you can find drawings of on [juliette's art instagram](https://www.instagram.com/juliette.arts/) in the doodles story.
> 
> → [main tumblr blog](https://universalsatan.tumblr.com/)  
> → [writing blog](https://celestialberries.tumblr.com/)  
> → I always love a good coffee!! Find out more in the descriptions of both my blogs!


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